Crooked Teeth
by fantastic plausibilities
Summary: In which this authoress will attempt to create as many vignettes based on one song as possible. Vignettes all based on the song Crooked Teeth by Death Cab for Cutie.
1. one

**Title**: Crooked Teeth

**Summary**: In which this authoress will attempt to create as many vignette's based on one song as possible. Vignettes all based on the song Crooked Teeth by Death Cab for Cutie.

**Spoilers (for this vignette):** During 7th season. Post-Millenium, at least.

**Disclaimer**: X-Files owned by Chris Carter and Fox. I own nothing, except my laptop.

**Random Info**: I'm basically using small exerpts from the song as the theme for each vignette. They aren't in the order of the song.

"**You're so cute when you're slurring your speech, but they're closing the bar, and they want us to leave."**

Scully POV.

I stepped out of the shower to hear my cell phone ringing loudly. Mulder popped up on the screen, and I flipped it open, wrapping my hair in a huge white towel.

"Let's go get ice cream." Mulder's overly loud voice filled my ears.

"Mulder, it's nine o'clock at night. Why do you want to get ice cream?" I switched the phone from one ear to another, trying to put on clothes.

"Because I feel like ice cream, Scully. Inhaling a hot fudge sundae distracts me from the utter failure and hellhole that my professional and personal lives have become." I sighed as Mulder played the angst card on the other end of the phone.

"Hold on, I'm putting you on speaker." I pushed a button on the phone and set it on a shelf on my bathroom. "Okay, you can talk again."

"So will you- wow, why is my voice echoing? Are you in a cave or something?" I snorted and resisted retorting with a smart remark.

"No, Mulder, I'm in my bathroom, trying to get dressed. You called as I was getting out of the shower."

"So you're naked?" I rolled my eyes, and grabbed some underwear out of the nearest drawer. I regarded them quickly, then slipped them on.

"Wipe that mental image away, and get your mind out of MY gutter. I'm putting on clothes as we speak."

"Okay, okay. Just dry your hair, and get all girly or whatever, and I'll be at your place in fifteen minutes. We're getting ice cream." I hung up the phone, and sat down on the cold tile floor of my bathroom. As much as I loved SpontaneousMulder, if he didn't start taking me out for vegetables at various hours of the night, I was going to start getting chunky. I quickly got back up and picked out a dark green sweater and dark wash jeans to wear. Putting on the jeans, I plugged in my hairdryer and began to multitask. I decided to forgo makeup, and I headed into the living room to wait for Mulder to arrive.

Mulder, for once, was prompt. He opened my door at 9:18, and whisked me away to the nearest Dairy Queen.

------------

"Truth or Dare?" Mulder inquired, winding a string of caramel from his massive sundae around his spoon.

"No," I sputtered with a mouthful of vanilla ice cream. "We are not playing that, Mulder. I'm going to start feeling like I'm on my first date again."

"You went to Dairy Queen on your first date? This is a truth of dare in and of itself." Mulder teased, sucking the whipped cream off of his cherry.

"It was with Marty Masters, and his mother had to drive us there," I giggled, slurping more ice cream out of my spoon.

"Well, I know what can make this less like your first date and more like a real date." Mulder said, scooping the last bit of his ice cream out of the plastic container.

"Oh, really? And what might that be?"

------------

"Mulder, is it bad that I can barely breathe right now?" I could hardly see either. The "Stripping Maven" bar obviously allowed its patrons to smoke to their hearts (and lungs) content.

"Maybe. But you wont notice that after long." He winked at me, and waved over the bartender. "I'll have a beer, and she will have-"

"A Cosmo, please." I cut in, plopping down on a barstool. Mulder sat down beside me. An awkward silence followed.

"So," I started. "This is very romantic, Mulder. Every girl's dream is to be dragged from Dairy Queen to a smoke-filled bar filled with large men with menacing tattoos." Mulder laughed as the bartender handed us our drinks.

------------

"Scully, do you think I'm cuuuuuute?" Mulder slurred as I tried to slide him off the barstool. He had had six too many beers, and the bar was closing, and this was NOT how I expected the evening to go.

"Yes, Mulder, you are very, very cute. So cute that I think we should go back to my place, okay? So, let's go." I dragged him towards the door, and snatched his keys out of his pocket. We stumbled to his car, and I began to drive us back to my house. I couldn't just drop him off at home, and besides, DrunkMulder usually recovered after a few hours.

"Scully, I have a very, very, very serious question," he stated fake-soberly, punching buttons on his stereo.

"I'm sure you do. What is it?"

"Do youuuu lovvvve meeeeee?" He began to sing haplessly, and I couldn't help smiling. The night hadn't gone that bad, and besides, Mulder was very cute when he mixed up his words and sang questions and slurred his speech.

"Of course I do."

**Final Notes**: Wow, I pumped that out in half an hour. Hope you guys enjoyed it!


	2. two

**Title**: Crooked Teeth

**Summary**: In which this authoress will attempt to create as many vignette's based on one song as possible. Vignettes all based on the song Crooked Teeth by Death Cab for Cutie.

**Spoilers (for this vignette):** Essence/ Existence.

**Disclaimer**: X-Files owned by Chris Carter and Fox. I own nothing, except my laptop.

**Random Info:** This is what would have happened if Mulder didn't leave Scully and William at the end of season 8. The story takes place 11 months post- Existence, to be exact.

"**And we shared a bed, in which I could not sleep, at all."**

**Scully POV**

"Um, Mulder," I shouted into the other room, William speaking nonsense in my arms. "I think we have a problem." He ran into the room, eyes blazing. Even with all that we had done to keep safe, he was still so worried about my and William's safety.

After long nights of thought and talking, Mulder and I decided that it would be best for me to quit the X-files, although he often uses my medical opinion on his many cases. I became a stay-at-home mother, although I kept pestering Mulder that we couldn't support a child on a G-man salary. I planned on taking a teaching job once Mulder came to his senses.

"No, not a **problem** problem, just- listen to this." I set William down on our bed. "Will, who is that?" I pointed to Mulder., who looked confused.

"Mudda! Mudda!" William shouted gleefully. Mulder still looked slightly puzzled.

"And who am I, Will?" I pointed to myself.

"Ully! Ully!" At this, Mulder began to laugh uncontrollably.

"Mulder, I mean, Daddy," I reprimanded. "This is not at all funny! We've brainwashed our son unknowingly into calling us by our last names!"

"Mudda! Mudda! Mudda!" William kept chanting gleefully, kicking his legs toward "Mudda".

"Come on, Scully," Mulder wheedled, pulling Will into his lap. "This is slightly hilarious."

"This is slightly tragic, **Daddy.**" I shot back. "We can't have Will doing that. He'd be acting too-"

",,too much like us?" Mulder cut me off, grinning as he patted Will's hands together.

"That's exactly the problem. I'm going to go online and figure out how to brainwash Will back to thinking we're Mommy and Daddy. And you," I pointed at him. "Don't say anything potentially scarring to our son while I'm in the other room."

"I love you, Mommy!" Mulder called as I left the room, and I couldn't help smiling. But only a little.

-------

"Okay, Daddy, are you ready?" I set William down between us on the couch.

"As ready as I'll ever be. I don't see how this will work." Mulder grunted, sprawling out on the couch.

"The website says that repetition of the correct name and bonding with both parents should help Will call us by the appropriate name," I said, quoting the web page. "And that is why we are going to watch Dragon Tales while having an intense but easily understandable conversation while constantly referring to ourselves as Mommy and Daddy."

"I think the baby food has addled your brain, Scul-Mommy," Mulder said as I shot him a Look of Death. "Okay, okay, I'll try it." They sat almost wordlessly for a few minutes, the only sound in the room being William's happy nonsense words and Mulder's fake gagging sounds.

"Hey, Mommy," Mulder finally said, breaking the silence.

"Yes, Daddy," I said, beaming at the fact that Mulder was at least pretending to go along with my plan.

"We haven't even began our intense conversation." I turned to face him on the couch.

"Okay, what do you suggest we talk about, Daddy?" Mulder picked Will up and set him on his baby blanket on the ground.

"Hmm, I think we should talk about how Daddy hopes Mommy still knows how to make more little William's," Mulder half-whispered, pulling me into his lap.

"Daddy, what happened to the no-potentially-scarring-conversation rule?" I said as Mulder kissed my neck.

"Mommy, I highly doubt Will is listening. Those animated dragons are intriguing," he said, reaching for my shirt. I got an idea suddenly.

"Whatever you say, _Daddy_," I whispered sexily into Mulder's ear, and he let go of my clothing.

"And I am so NOT excited anymore," he sat back, chuckling. "That was just creepy."

"What? The Daddy thing isn't a huge turn on?" I teased.

"Surprisingly, no. I mean, everyone says it is, but-"

"..it just doesn't live up to the hype, does it?" I cut him off.

"Exactly," he breathed into my ear, and I relaxed against his chest, listening to the beating of Mulder's heart and to the sound of William imitating the dragons on TV.

------

"Trust me, Mommy, I think this is working, I'm only asking if we have to take it this far," Mulder complained, sitting on the bed in his pajamas, playing with William.

"Bonding never stops, Daddy. If we sleep with him, if he wakes up with a nightmare or something, then **Daddy** can comfort him appropriately," I stated, smearing moisturizer on my face.

"I am not going to get any sleep tonight, Mommy, that's all I'm saying." Mulder pulled back the covers, and I slid in, with William in my arms. "Besides, what if we roll over and suffocate the poor kid?" He rubbed his nose on William's lovingly.

"If we get so tired that we feel like we are about to roll over and suffocate our child, then I will put him in his bed, okay?" I said, tucking Will in between us.

"Deal, Mommy," Mulder said, flipping the light off.

-----

"Ninety-nine bottles of milk on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of milk," Mulder sang tunelessly to William, as I attempted to sleep beside him.

"Mul-Daddy, what time is it?" He glanced over the clock on our nightstand.

"Two AM." I pushed back my bangs and sighed.

"And what time do you have to wake up for work?" This time I heard Mulder sigh.

"Five-thirty." I sighed once more.

"Okay," I replied, picking up the somewhat sleepy William and putting him in his bed. I walked tiredly back to our room and collapsed into the bed.

"Do you think all of this bonding crap worked?" Mulder asked, pulling the covers over me.

"Well, I'm pretty sure I heard him say "Momllly" as I left the room." Mulder laughed hopelessly.

"Hey, combining the two is better than nothing. Let's get some sleep," Mulder whispered, pulling me closer to him.

"Goodnight, Mulder."

"Goodnight, Mommy."

**Author's Note**: Another chapter finished, and I am very proud. And I bet you thought something completely different when you heard the prompt "shared a bed", huh? Many thanks to Teliko, who is a faithful reviewer. I hope I didn't misspell your name.


	3. three

**Title**: Crooked Teeth

**Summary**: In which this authoress will attempt to create as many vignette's based on one song as possible. Vignettes all based on the song Crooked Teeth by Death Cab for Cutie.

**Spoilers (for this vignette):** Not really sure there's any, actually. This would have probably taken place during Season 6 or 7.

**Disclaimer**: X-Files owned by Chris Carter and Fox. I own nothing, except my laptop.

**Random Info:** I don't know if I'm exactly pleased with this chapter. I was basically reading over the three things mentioned in the prompt, and one thing popped out to me: they were places you went to get away. So I present both Scully and Mulder commenting (in a sort of journal form, until the final one) on how they really can never get away from the things that haunt their lives. Scully finds that there isn't always sanctuary in the sanctuary, and Mulder enjoys green aliens on springs.

"**There were churches, theme parks and malls, but there was nothing there all along."**

**Scully POV**

I decided to go to early morning mass today. I felt like I needed to be forgiven.

I had forgotten how much it sucked to wake up early, take a shower during which you continually fall asleep against the cold tile wall, attempt to form your hair into a style, then drag yourself over to the church where everyone looks better than you, even though they probably woke up even earlier than you did.

Needless to say, I didn't remember much of the mass. Afterwards, I felt even worse than I had when I walked in.

I wonder if God thinks falling asleep to the priest's droning voice is a sin?

**Mulder POV**

I almost went to church today. I walked past one, looked in, even stepped inside slightly.

God should give me an award.

It had been one of the many nights that sleep evaded me, so I got up at 8 from my non-sleep and walked to the corner store to replenish my supply of sunflower seeds. I pushed the money towards the hapless teenage clerk and wandered out onto the street, following the glint of stained glass that had caught my eye.

I walked slowly up to the doors of the old church. If I really listened, I could have probably heard people singing joyfully.

But I felt trapped. And madly under-dressed.

So my sunflower seeds and I went back home.

**Scully POV**

I went to Disney World this week. Charlie had an extra ticket, and he persuaded me to come with his family.

It was vaguely disappointing. I guess I would have enjoyed it more if I was seven. Or if Mulder was there.

The teacup ride made me dizzy and stupid, the shoot-em-up alien ride was chaotic and completely untrue (I mean, seriously? If they're building a ride about aliens, they should have consulted my partner first. He could have helped immensely. Although little **green** aliens are more appealing, I guess.), and the food was overpriced and tasted like something I would have given Queequeg for his dinner.

I did, however, buy Mulder some Mickey Mouse ears.

I found some with little green aliens on springs sprouting from the ears. He'll enjoy them.

**Mulder POV**

Scully brought me back alien Mickey Mouse ears from her vacation, and it reminded me of when I went to Disney World once. It had just opened.

I was happy, I think. I was 11. Samantha was there.

I rode all of the rides, ate too much cotton candy, and yelled at her for taking the last French fry at dinner.

I still have her Mickey Mouse ears. They have her name sewed on in gold embroidery thread, and I've touched it so much, the thread is now, well, threadbare.

I put the alien ears beside Samantha's in my closet, and smiled at the complete feeling that grew in my chest.

**Scully POV**

"Mulder, for the life of me, I can't figure out why you bought that." I stared at the shirt he just bought from some kiosk in the local mall. It had a huge alien on it, with bugged out eyes and, yep, you guessed it, green skin. Below the alien, some weird font spelled out these infamous words: "The Truth is Out There."

"What, Scully? It's my personal mantra." He grinned dorkishly at me. "God made this shirt just for me."

"Wow," I snorted. "I wish God would make me my own shirt."

"What, Scully? Has God not blessed you enough this week?"

"Do you realize that you have began all of you sentences with What, Scully?" I smiled slightly.

"Do you realize that you are horrible at redirecting questions?" I scowled, and poked him as we sat on one of those horribly uncomfortable mall benches.

"It's just that , I went to mass a couple weeks ago, and I didn't really get anything from it. It felt like God had gone out to lunch or something." I fumbled with Mulder's T-shirt bag.

"What did you expect, Scully?" Mulder sounds mocking, and it angers me.

"Well, I expected something intriguing, an escape from my real life, something to show me that God was still watching out for me."

"And what did you get?" I prop my feet up on Mulder's lap, and sigh.

"I fell asleep, Mulder." He laughs, and I poke him with my shoe.

"Sorry, Scully," he apologizes. "Maybe God was showing you that you need more sleep."

"Or maybe he was telling me to stop hanging out with you because you keep me out late at night," I shot back, and as we bickered, I forgot what we had started bickering about.

I forgot that I never found my escape. That I didn't find what I was looking for.

Something inside me told me the ongoing search was worth it.

**Author's Note:** Again, not sure if I liked this one. But I hope you readers did!


	4. four

**Title**: Crooked Teeth

**Summary**: In which this authoress will attempt to create as many vignette's based on one song as possible. Vignettes all based on the song Crooked Teeth by Death Cab for Cutie.

**Spoilers (for this vignette):** I…don't really know. None, I guess.

**Disclaimer**: X-Files owned by Chris Carter and Fox. I own nothing, except my laptop.

**Random Info**: I think I can only squeeze a few more chapters out of this song, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to continue the song-vignettes thing. So… VOTING TIME! What song should I do next? Your choices are: "The Adventure" by Angels and Airwaves, "Slow Dancing in a Burning Room" by John Mayer, or "The Remedy" by Jason Mraz.

"**I'm a war, of head versus heart, and it's always this way."**

Mulder POV

I fight a battle every day.

And, no, I'm not talking about the war between the hairbrush and my head.

(Although that is a battle that wreaks havoc on my life daily.)

Nope, this is an internal battle of sorts. The battle that goes on between my head and my heart. My logical side and my emotional side. My left brain and my right brain.

My impulse-buyer side and my checkbook.

See, I've been meaning to buy something for Scully for a while now. It's absolutely the perfect thing for her. It suits her perfectly. I even hunted down her size so it would fit perfectly.

It's just radically expensive.

And I'm battling my rational side that says that she might not take my, uh, special gift. I mean, God knows, she's rejected me before.

And this is sort of the thing you wouldn't want to return.

And I don't want to mess things up between us, because this gift……this gift would change everything.

Including the amount of mad money I have every month, but that's not the point.

The strange thing is that every time I look at it, and I picture Scully with it, I know that it's the right thing to do.

I just wish my heart could explain to my brain that the four thousand dollar Tiffany engagement ring would be the best gift I could ever buy the G-woman I love.

**Author's Note**: Short, fluffy drabble, I know. I still love it! Much love to my reviewers TwistedSister03, Teliko, and Anita.


End file.
